


The Ache of Familiarity (DISCONTINUED)

by AnarchistRedeemed



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Allura is a chaotic force of mischief, Angst, Coping, Family, Fluff, Honestly I love them, Lance and Hunk are sweethearts, Lot's of Feels™, Lot's of angst, Lot's of fluff, M/M, Mentions of Death, Minor Character Death, Platonic Relationships, Plot? Maybe, Soft!Galra, platonic fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-23
Updated: 2017-05-31
Packaged: 2018-11-03 22:38:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10976817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnarchistRedeemed/pseuds/AnarchistRedeemed
Summary: In the aftermath of Zarkon’s defeat and Shiro’s disappearance, Kolivan finds himself lost and anguished by the death of his closest friend and ally, Antok. But perhaps one of the Paladins can help him cope with the loss…UPDATE: Due to lack of inspiration/motivation, TAOF will not have any further chapter updates. I apologize for this. Perhaps I will find the energy to come back to this story sometime in the future.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A short drabble from my tumblr. Have I ever mentioned how much I love the Marmorites? Because I do. So, so much. Find more garbage at @anarchistredeemed. Send me some requests, too. I write any ship! Minus Shlav, for obvious reasons. *shivers*

It’s only been a few hours since Shiro’s disappearance and Zarkon’s defeat. The Paladins have been in a frenzy, frantically searching for their comrade within the throes of the castle. But to no avail; the black paladin of Voltron is gone. Where? No one knows. Not even the princess. She theorizes, though, that the Black Lion may have used its teleportation powers to transfer Shiro’s physical form to a safer location. It’s a long shot, but it’s the only lead they’ve got. Pidge is already working on a scanner that will send out pulses of energy designed to track and accordingly respond to Shiro’s quintessence. She says, forlornly, that she’s not even close to finishing.

When the buzz of the castle has finally quieted down and the Paladins have resigned themselves to their resting quarters, Kolivan takes this moment to tend to himself. He drags his weary body into the showering room, pulling off his armor piece by piece, dropping them onto the floor haphazardly. He’s too tired for neatness at this point. With a shaky exhale, he unravels the braids of his hair, separating the strands with his claws. Stepping forward under the spray of the water he sighs, muscles going slack with relief as the heat flows against him. Kolivan rakes his claws through his hair, scrubbing at his scalp lazily, eyes heavy with exhaustion.

After he is thoroughly cleansed he steps out, shutting off the stream of water. The Galra man shakes a little, sending droplets flying in all directions before grabbing for one of the fluffy Altean towels stacked against the wall. He has found that he prefers the towels over the castle’s manual drying system, since it fluffs up his fur too much, making him look all Kaltenecker-licked.

Kolivan rubs the towel over his damp fur, using his tongue here and there to guide the more stubborn strands in the proper direction. When he’s done, he wraps the towel around his waist, settling it securely atop his hips. He raises his arms behind his head and grabs at his wet hair.

“Hey, An-….oh.” he breathes, chest tightening in realization. Oh. Antok isn’t here. Antok can’t braid Kolivan’s hair. Antok is gone.

The reality of the day finally kicks in. Defeating Zarkon, losing his closest friends and allies…Thace, Shiro, Ulaz, and Antok. All brave. All gone.

Kolivan braces himself against the wall. Tears well in the Galra’s eyes, shimmering wetly against the dim glow of his pupils. Not here. Not now. He’s the leader of Marmora. He isn’t supposed to…

But he does. He covers his mouth with his hands before any sobs can escape between his quivering lips, silencing his anguish. _Antok_ , his mind wails. _I want Antok_. His elbows tuck close to his chest and he struggles to breathe, lungs fluttering rapidly under his flesh.

Kolivan whimpers beneath his fingers.

Antok was there when Kolivan was given the title of Blade Master, immediately after Leader Herrok’s untimely death. Antok was there when Kolivan had unknowingly sent an entire group of Blades to their demise; his sister, Tavji, included. Antok was there on Kolivan’s lonely nights, when he feared that he would forever be fighting in a war that could never be won; that he would live and die as a traitor to his people.

Antok was always there. But now…Now he isn’t. And the feeling of emptiness, hollow and nagging, consumes Kolivan entirely.

He sits there, on the slick shower floor, for what seems like hours, emptying all his grief out in the form of hallowed cries, muffled by his own pride. When he can open his eyes again, he whines, low and mourning. Kolivan blinks slowly, allowing himself one final second of sorrow, before pulling himself up. He can’t remember when he had sat in the first place.

After pulling on his armor, piece by piece, Kolivan discards the damp towel into the hamper slot. His hair is still loose, he realizes. He never learned how to braid it. He never had to. Antok…

Kolivan shakes his head, pressing his palms against his eyes. _Don’t don’t don’t don’t-_

He doesn’t think about it. Instead, he exits the room hurriedly, feet slapping loudly against the polished castle floors. His agitation ebbs more with each step and he begins to slow his pace, stopping in the middle of the hallway. Kolivan breathes steadily through his nose. Perhaps…

The Blue Paladin’s room isn’t that far, he thinks, silently mulling over the idea that has bloomed inside his head. Yes, this could work. Kolivan swallows his pride and begins moving again, this time with a destination in mind. He turns corner after corner, having already committed the map of the castle to memory. At the front of the paladin’s door, he pauses. Inhale. Exhale. It’s just a simple request, after all. Kolivan calms himself.

He raps his knuckles against the metal of the door in three, firm taps. He waits.

“…probably Pidge,” he hears a voice. That’s not…

“Come on in.” the voice beckons. That’s not the Blue Paladin. Kolivan stiffens, thinking he’s gone to the wrong room, but he enters nonetheless, door sliding out of his way to reveal the living quarters inside. Ah. It is the Blue Paladin’s room. But the Yellow one is in here, too, leaning against the bed frame, tinkering with a metallic object in his hands.

Kolivan walks towards the bed where the Blue Paladin sits, his lithe arms dangling off the side of the mattress. He peeks his head up at Kolivan, surprise flashing against his face. He scrambles up into a sitting position.

“Oh, uh- hey, Kolivan. What brings you here?” he croaks nervously. Lance figures that having the leader of the Blade of Marmora in his room can only mean something bad. The paladin braces himself for what he expects to be an onslaught of even more bad news.

Instead, he is met with a melancholic droop of the Galra’s eyelids. Kolivan frowns before licking his lips; might as well get it over with, he thinks, loose hair still weighing heavily against his back.

“I have been informed that you, amongst your comrades, are the, ah, ‘cosmetics’ expert of the team,” he manages, clawed fingers curling nervously against the armor of his thighs. “I was wondering, then, if you could assist me?”

Silently, Kolivan plucks the purple hair band from his pocket and hands it to the Blue Paladin, who takes it with a concerned quirk of his lips. The Galra man clenches his jaw before slowly turning around and gesturing to the mess of white hair cascading from the nape of his neck and over the expanse of his broad back.

“Oh,” Lance gasps, fingers squeezing against the fibers of the hair band. “Did that big guy..?”

“Antok.” Kolivan cuts in, heart hammering in his chest.

“Ah. Did Antok do this for you, then?” Lance can already guess the answer, but he figures that getting the Galra man to admit it will help him feel better in the long run. Lance, however, is met with silence. It is all the answer he needs.

“Well,“ he starts, putting the hair tie in his lap before leaning forward to grab Kolivan’s hair, urging the Galra man to sit on the edge of the bed. “I used to do this, too. Back on Earth, I mean. I have a little sister named Heidi.”

Lance speaks as he deftly gathers up the white locks of hair, weaving them together gently while ensuring that the braid is firm and neat. He continues. “And Heidi has the prettiest head of hair. It’s all curly and long and soft. She loves having it styled and played with by her big siblings. Every Tuesday is ‘braid day’, and that’s when I get to style Heidi’s hair. When I’m done, I’ll sometimes stick some Lantana flowers in the braid so she feels extra pretty,” he says with a fond smile. “Of course, you won’t catch me sticking flowers in your hair anytime soon. But…” Lance pauses as he ties off the braid with the little purple band. “If you ever need someone to help you with this, well, Hunk and I _are_ the experts. And I know we’re in a war. I know all of us are far away from home and that some of us don’t even have a home to go back to. I also know that…that Antok was _your_ home. I barely know any of you, Coran and the princess included. I mean, you’re aliens for crying out loud. But, if it’s okay with you…then maybe we can be your new home?”

Kolivan’s eyes snap open and his throat constricts. Fresh tears prickle at the corners of his eyes and he blinks them back, face contorted in a mix of surprise and sorrow. The Blade Leader stands abruptly, back still facing the Paladins. He tilts his head ever so slightly, offering a hesitant nod to them.

“I…I would like that.” he whispers, before his feet carry him out the door.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance talks about all the establishments he's been banned from. The princess has some news, but it's not the good kind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to SOMEONE *glares at chapter one commenter* I now have the desire to continue this. Dunno' where. Dunno' how. But it's gonna happen. If you would like to hit me up with some suggestions or ideas, find my tumblr at @anarchistredeemed

Ever since that first encounter had occurred, Kolivan has been seeing a lot more of the Blue and Yellow paladins. And, as his pride slowly becomes more chipped away through repeated meetings, he has begun to call them by their names.

Lance is the Blue one. He is also the loud and pushy one. Kolivan has found that he doesn't mind, as it fills the silence.

Hunk is the Yellow one. He is gentle and inquisitive. He is also the one who has introduced Kolivan to the human concept of 'hugs', which are brief, fully body, physical squeezes. Kolivan has found that, while it is mildly embarrassing, he doesn't mind those too much, either. They give him a sense of home. Something he feared he had fully lost along with Antok.

And although Kolivan has been secretly indulging in these comforts without the knowledge of the other paladins _or_ the princess, a nagging in the back of his skull reminds him that he still has a certain matter to attend to.

* * *

"I regret that I cannot be present to formally give Erzok the title of Blade Master, but my work within the Castle of Lions has taken priority," Kolivan admits to the scowling face on the holo-screen. "I am also afraid to say that I have been emotionally compromised following the events of Emperor Zarkon's defeat. My mate has been killed in battle."

The Blade on the screen, Vaator, widens his eyes in surprise before clenching them shut in grief.

"I am sorry to hear that, Kolivan. We will hold a small ceremony here for the cadets that were under his care. I will speak with Kordak to see if we can't send you his belongings-"

"Don't bother," Kolivan cuts in. "There is nothing I can do with them here, anyway. Just inform Erzok of his promotion. And make sure things don't get out of hand while we clean up the Empire's _mess._ There are thousands of prisoners that need refuge while we relocate them back to their planets, and even more that don't _have_ a planet to come home to."

Vaator nods grimly, tired eyes dipping down to stare at his forlorn comrade through the screen.

"Of course, Master Kolivan." Vaator thumps a closed fist to his chest, standing to attention. "It was an honor to fight by your side and follow your command. May the Blade be with you. _Ma'ror ect ta!_ " He finishes with the standard Blade salute before signing off, screen washing to black. Kolivan slumps in his chair as a sigh escapes his lips.

Now is as good a time as any to start over, he figures, scratching absentmindedly at the fur on his wrist.

* * *

 

"...and it turns out that you can, in fact, set a swimming pool on fire!" Lance proclaims excitedly. 

He is sitting behind Kolivan on the bed, legs crossed, as he rambles on about his childhood shenanigans. The paladin's fingers carefully weave the strands of Kolivan's hair together, his practiced hands taking their time. The longer he takes, the longer Lance gets to bask in the comfort of having someone other than Hunk to talk to. Not that Hunk isn't _fun_ to hang out with, it's just...

The Yellow paladin has been awfully quiet since Shiro's disappearance.

He keeps to himself more often and, when he does visit Lance, he merely sits quietly at the foot of the bed and fiddles with some miscellaneous scrap of tech. Lance, for one, has never felt lonelier. Pidge is still cooped up in her data lab, furiously coding away at the scanner needed to find Shiro. Coran stops by every now and then to bring her food and water. Speaking of Coran, his presence has been scarce, as well. The royal advisor has been singlehandedly keeping Allura's sanity in one piece for the duration of these past hectic quintants.

Keith is out, too; the training room has become his home. His coping methods consist of fighting practice bots until he is on the verge of collapsing, body littered in bruises and scars. Last Lance checked, Keith has made it to level thirteen and has since then gone no further. Shiro's record was fourteen.

So here Lance is, left only with an anguished Galra and a best friend that barely speaks. He supposes that it could be worse. Kolivan isn't that bad, after all, once you take away the factor of him being an 8'4" tall, purple menace... Not bad at all.

"So, after that whole incident, Miguel and I have been banned from the YMCA ever since. If we wanna swim, we have to go to Sophie's house. She's a nice gal, though, and she's got these darling triplet girls no higher than my knees." Lance beams, eyes sparkling fondly. Kolivan grunts.

"Your Earth sounds nice," Kolivan notes. "My race has become cold and distant from one another, ever since Zarkon's reign began. I only hope that we can fix the gaps between my people, now that the Empire is losing its power."

Lance contemplates this silently as he ties off Kolivan's braid.

"You should visit Earth sometime," he suggests, eyes widening hopefully. "We've got beaches, hotdog stands, hair salons and...oh, and my cousin Timothy would _adore_ you, I just know it. You could give him the _tallest_ piggyback rides ever."

Kolivan barely suppresses his chuckle.

"How endearing." he drawls, a smirk plastered on his face. As he moves to get up, the castle comms suddenly crackle to life.

" _Paladins_ ," Allura announces. " _Please report to the Main Deck. I repeat; please report to the Main Deck. Pidge has news regarding the quintessence senor_."

Hunk and Lance whip their heads to stare at each other, hope brimming in their expressions. The two bolt out of the room with Kolivan following close behind.

* * *

 

The team all stands circled around Pidge, who crouches on the floor with bits of her own machine scattered around her. She prods at a handful of wires, the pads of her fingers slowly trailing over the metal gleam of the mechanism.

"I haven't completed it yet, but I _have_ been able to successfully lock onto the Black Lion's quintessence," she says, pupils glinting with pride. "It's similar to how Allura is able to track the quintessence of the Lions, except mine is going to be tuned so that it can also track the pilot. Lions and their pilots have a quintessence that mirrors each others', so if I can fine-tune it to locate that mirrored quintessence while using a universally-scaled scanner, then we can find Shiro." Pidge sits back on her heels and taps her fingers against the scanner thoughtfully, eyes trailing up to asses her teammate's reactions. Allura is the first to jump in.

"That's incredible, Pidge. Without you, I fear that Shiro may be lost to us forever," the princess states, offering a smile to her paladin. "Now, in the meantime, we need to clean up Zarkon's mess. Just because he is gone, that doesn't mean our job is done. We will be landing on a planet specifically designed to hold war prisoners, soon. Our mission is to drive out the leftover Galra forces, round up the prisoners, and deliver them to the Blade of Marmora's intergalactic refugee camps. There, they will be registered to our archives and returned to their home planets. Any questions?"

Lance raises his hand.

"Yeah, when do we start?"

"Tomorrow." she says before turning on her heel toward the Command Deck.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Help me out, here. Should this be a plot-heavy story, or should it all be fluff and cute Galra stuff? Should there be any romances, or should all relationships strictly be platonic?


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An awful event transpires. Kolivan visits his local therapist.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning, as this chapter is angst-heavy and graphic. However, I promise much fluff to come after this! Aw, jee whiz i'm an awful person I almost feel bad posting this chapter...

As the ex-commander of the Blades, Kolivan is used to, well, _commanding_. Meaning that in all his time under the care of Marmora, he has rarely set foot into the field of battle itself. Of course he has fought; many have died under his blade. But he has never found himself facing _this_ kind of aspect of war so up close and personally.

As him and the paladins step into the metal walls of the prison, the crying is the first thing that he notices.

Ever since Zarkon's defeat, Galra forces have been scrambling around haphazardly in a frenzied panic. Most are migrating towards the main fleet while others flock to leftover Balmeras and communication hubs. Without a leader, they have begun to fall apart and separate. Which leaves prisons like this one abandoned. There are no droids to do their daily rounds, which means there is no one to feed the prisoners. And, after nearly eight full quintants, Kolivan realizes that they are too late.

It is the feeble children and the frail elderly that have died first. Mothers wail, clutching their rotting young in their arms. Brothers cling to their weakened sisters, some dead and some on the verge. Families and friends shiver and tremble, clinging to one another for what they know will be the last time. As the paladins open the cell doors, one by one, they are met with one gruesome sight after the other.

Some of the more brutal alien species have taken the liberty of devouring their cellmates. These are the doors that they do not open until all other living prisoners have been evacuated. Coran prepares pods for those that are in critical condition. A line forms in the healing room. Some do not make it past the wait.

Allura and Hunk take it upon themselves to coax the mothers away from their dead children. Slav assists Coran in the med bay. Pidge busies herself with cataloguing the surviving alien species and scanning the prison for anyone that they might have missed. Lance and Kolivan clear the cells of the bodies.

This is where they are now. Standing in the hall, each pushing a holo-cart with several bodies in tow. The intact ones are to be stored in the castle until they reach the Blade refugee camp, where the corpses will be returned to their rightful families. The ones that are not so intact...will be left where they lie. It is not pretty, and Kolivan wishes that it were just him doing this. His little Blue paladin looks shaken, almost on the verge of tears.

Kolivan places a hand on Lance's shoulder, who looks up at the Galra with a blank, wide-eyed stare.

"I am so sorry," he laments, pulling the paladin into his arms. Hunk has made it painfully clear to Kolivan that 'hugging' aids in the emotional, human healing process. With this in mind, he squeezes Lance more tightly. "You should not have been here. I only wish that you did not have to see this." Kolivan murmurs, trailing a clawed hand through Lance's hair as though he were nothing more than an upset kit. The paladin sniffles, his cries muffled beneath Kolivan's chest.

It isn't until they rendezvous back at the castle that Lance finally falls apart, sobbing into the arms of both Kolivan and Hunk. When Pidge had punched out the numbers, announcing the living-to-dead ratio, almost everyone had immediately retreated to their rooms or to more private areas.

Of the six-hundred prisoners, only eighty-five had made it out.

* * *

 

The warp to the refugee camp and the days thereafter are filled with silence. The aliens that survived the starvation within the prison walls are nursed back to health and flown off to their home planets. Thankfully, all of the species accounted for had homes to return to.

That one saving grace does nothing to ease the hollow feeling that envelops the crew of the castle.

Luckily for them, however, the Olkari, Gelluro, and Eri'dua have joined the Voltron Alliance and taken it upon themselves to liberate the remaining Galran prisons and planets, giving the paladins the time they need to search for Shiro. Allura is thankful that her paladins will not have to see another sight like the one they last encountered any time soon. With this new 'free-time' on their hands, the crew members spend every waking minute of it attempting to emotionally and physically recover from their latest turmoil.

Kolivan is no exception.

He lays under the covers of his bed, soft fabric of the comforter tucked under his body like a cocoon, warm and safe. He breathes evenly until exhaustion finally has its way with him, dragging him under and into sleep.

* * *

_"What do you want to do after the war?"_

_The question comes quite suddenly from the body snuggled next to Kolivan. He wriggles closer to the mass of purple fur, wrapping his legs around the other's._

_"Hmm..." he ponders, claws stroking up and down Antok's naked waist. "Get a better job; one whose uniform doesn't require the constant wearing of a mask. I'm amazed they don't make us wear it in the showers."_

_Antok laughs and bats Kolivan's curious hands away before latching onto the fingers and bringing them up to his face. He presses the hand to his lips._

_"I'm serious. I mean...what do you think about kits?"_

_Kolivan sucks in a breath._

_"Well, I mean. After the war, obviously, we can't have kits right now, there'd be no poin-"_

_Antok silences him with a gentle press of his lips againt Kolivan's._

_"You're rambling," he states with a light chuckle. "You don't have to think about it right now."_

_The smaller Galra's chest heaves with a sigh. Antok twines his tail around Kolivan's ankle to calm his nerves, grounding his mate._ _"Like I said; we can talk more about it once this fight is over."_

_Kolivan snorts._

_"_ If _this fight is ever over in our lifetime."_

_Antok nuzzles his forehead against Kolivan's, closing his eyes and pressing close. He grins._

_"Don't be so cynical. Such a grump, honestly...Besides; I wouldn't mind carrying your kits. Despite our rough, 'angry commander' facades, I think we'd make pretty great parents," he says, kissing the tip of Kolivan's nose. "I think_ you'd _make a pretty great parent."_

_Kolivan's chest fills with warmth._

* * *

 

He doesn't need to feel the dampness trailing down his cheeks and onto his pillow to know that he is crying when he wakes.

Kolivan knows that he is crying by the ache that fills his chest, and how that ache grips his heart mercilessly.

Before he knows exactly what he is doing, his feet are carrying him out the door.

He heads for the Blue paladin's room.

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm aiming for like, 1,000 words per chapter until I get into the swing of things. *whispers* it looks a lot longer if you read it on mobileeeee....*wink* *wink*  
> Also, hooray for Galra biology! I headcanon that they're an all 'male' race, or at least what we identify as male, but have both sex organs and therefore are all capable of carrying children. And Kolivan and Antok aren't really as stiff and scary as they seem at first...they just do that to frighten the cadets.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kolivan admits his regrets. Lance finds a new heating system.

Before Kolivan has even reached the front of Lance's door, he is trembling, fingers hovering mere centimeters away from the activation pad. He can feel sweat soaking through his night garmets, making everything feel too hot and too tight, he feels as though he is choking, and the air around him, thick and heavy, has him held in a vice, his heart is beating too quickly, too loudly, he cannot breathe, _he cannot breathe_ -

Hand slamming on the pad, Kolivan rushes into the room as the doors glide apart, his eyes unfocused and panicked. He sees the Blue paladin sleeping soundly, arms draped haphazardly amongst the hoard of pillows on his bed. Kolivan suppresses a whimper in the back of his throat. _What if his paladin thinks less of him for this? What if..._

The Galra man hold his face in his hands and forces himself to breathe at a more controlled pace. _In; one, two three. Out; one, two three. Repeat. Repeat._ His lungs have stopped fluttering and his throat feels less tight. However, his heart still feels heavy, like a tarp filled with too much rainwater, sagging and ready to burst from the stress. Kolivan opens his eyes and slowly sits at the edge of the bed, weight compressing the mattress. Lance wakes immediately, his brain groggy and slow. He registers the mass of purple fur slouching next to him. If he had been more awake, Lance would have also been able to register that said purple mass is still shaking. His fog-clouded mind, however, does not notice this.

"Kolivan?" Lance whispers, hands grasping for the Galra. "What're you doing here? s' late, you should be in bed."

Kolivan chuckles.

"I _am_ in a bed." he says, voice wobbling around the weakly-attempted humor. Lance hums in thought, his head now clear enough to register the signs of Kolivan's distress. The pungent smell of sweat, the bristled fur along his arms, the way his muscles tense in agitation...

"You know what I meant. Is something wrong?" he asks, fingers skimming along the Galra's forearm. The action is almost like a question in itself, though Kolivan cannot decide which one it is meant to represent; _how can I help you?  Tell me what to do? Why are you hurting? Why won't you tell me what's wrong?_

To which the answer of each one is silence. Kolivan says nothing for awhile, just sits and lets the paladin comfort him. He knows how weak and fragile he must look in this moment, but decides to not bother with that thought until tomorrow. Lance eventually sits up, shifting the blankets until they are wrapped around both him and Kolivan, the soft fabric acting as a barrier between Kolivan and the outside world which he is not yet ready to face.

Finally, after what feels like hours, Kolivan speaks in a hoarse whisper.

"Tell me about Earth."

Lance's eyes grow soft as his body sags against Kolivan's. His own heart clenches for a moment; he knows what Kolivan _needs_ , but Lance isn't sure if he wants to be the one responsible to give it to him.

He does anyways.

"I don't think I should, Kolivan." Lance flinches at the way Kolivan whines, as though Lance were taking something precious from a child. He might as well be. Lance takes a deep breath before he fights his way through his next string of words. "Kolivan...Tell me about Antok."

The Galra man grips the sheets below him as if they were his only anchor.

* * *

_Fingers grasp his own as a thumb rubs lazily over his knuckles, claws trailing gently across the dusting of fur coating them. Kolivan leans into Antok, but the bigger Galra decides that it just isn't_ close enough _, so he pulls Kolivan tightly to his chest. The smaller Galra laughs as Antok begins to rumble below him, furious purrs tickling Kolivan's back even through the thick padding of his armor. He tries to squirm into a more comfortable positon, but Antok is having none of it, and instead wraps his legs around Kolivan's waist. The two topple over from the sudden imbalance and Kolivan suddenly finds himself laying on his back in the center of the mattress. Above him is the mischievous face of a very needy mate._

_"You are such a pain, sometimes. I have places to be, Antok, now get of- no, get off-" Kolivan wiggles underneath the barrage of kisses that are peppering his face and he cannot help but laugh at the display. Antok nudges his face into Kolivan's neck, breathing in his mate's scent._

_"You think I am the pain? You are the one that makes me wait all day...Perhaps we should tell Vaz that you have fallen ill. That way I can have you all to myself today," he offers, grinning slyly against Kolivan's skin. "No more meetings, no more planning, no more lecturing cadets. Just us. Just here."_

_An indulgent part of Kolivan almost says yes. But lieutenant Vaz would be quite upset if the Blade Master himself did not show up to his own meeting._

_Perhaps next time._

* * *

 

What hurts him the most is that there never was a 'next time'.

Kolivan cries into the emptiness of the room. Lance sits beside him, silently trailing his thumb over the Galra man's knuckles.

"I should have- I should have spent _more time_ with him-" he hiccups, lips quivering around his own choked sobs. "Marmora be damned. I would h-have given up _anything_ to have been with him for just one more _second_. I just want to see his face, want to hear his voice, want to feel his skin- _Lance, it hurts so much."_

Kolivan shudders as he wails, body rocking into itself as he doubles over, face burying into his folded arms. "I can't stop thinking about- about all those times that I just _brushed him off_. I should have _never_ become Blade Master. I should have spent more time with him, I should have... _Dammit,_ I should have let him carry my kits, _he wanted to so badly,_ he wanted _nothing more_ than to be a _father_."

Lance listens to Kolivan pour forth his regrets, one after the other, until he has finally had enough. He reaches out to Kolivan, gripping onto his shoulders and pulling him close, startling the grieving man. Lance wraps his arms around Kolivan's shivering form and buries his face into the Galra's chest. Kolivan clutches onto the little Blue Paladin and allows himself to ache and hurt and mourn. The human whispers to him -nothing that Kolivan can hear over his own crying- and uses his small hands to pat Kolivan along his back and shoulders, soothing him. They stay like that until Kolivan has no more tears left to shed.

When that time has come, Lance lifts the covers on the other side of the bed and beckons Kolivan over. Too emotionally and physically exhausted to be embarrassed, he nods mutely and scoots over, thankful for the human's empathy.

Once the two of them are settled under the covers, Lance shifts so that he is curled against Kolivan's body, bare legs only slightly tickled by the Galra's fur. The human mutters something along the lines of, 'warm...m' staying like this', before drifting off to sleep. His soft snores reach Kolivan's ears and the larger man smiles. He leans down to nudge his nose lightly across Lance's forehead in the same manner that a Galra parent would do for its child.

"Thank you, Lance." he whispers before closing his tear-stained eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know if you ever find any errors in this work; I don't read through before or after I post chapters. It would help me a lot to know if I have made a mistake somewhere. Also, the cycle of angst is complete! More fluff-based chapters from here on out, I promise!


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kolivan heals. Allura has some fun. The paladins are one step closer to Shiro.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Late update due to my attendance at Phoenix Comic-con. Found a whole bunch of Voltron posters!!! I can't wait to hang them up :o

Kolivan has begun to feel more like himself again.

That is, to say, the Galra man is now his stiff, stoic, usual self. As his pride grows, his pity for himself shrinks. Kolivan stands taller now when he enters a room. His voice no longer quivers when he speaks; rather, it booms, confident and calculated. He has ceased his constant moping around the castle and does not shy away from his companions or his personal duties and responsibilities. He has grown from the wounds where he once bled.

This does not mean that his meetings with Lance and Hunk have ended, either. On the contrary, actually; he has grown even closer to the paladins since the night he fell apart in front of Lance. And it is not just the blue and yellow ones. Kolivan has begun to closely bond with each member of the castle, now that his head feels clearer and the ache in his heart is just a bit less overwhelming.

Keith was the first. Kolivan happened to come across him one day in the training room, body shaking feverishly with pent-up rage as his arms gracefully arced his sword across the room, slicing his foes with an elegant brutality. Kolivan had watched the display for a moment before joining the young Red Paladin in the training room.

They fought. They bared teeth. They snarled as they charged one another. And they both left the room with sickly bruises, but at least their faces were adorned with exhausted smiles.

Pidge was the second. Kolivan would sit quietly next to her while she slaved away at the coding and various system function tweaking needed to find their missing ally. He would bring her food and water. Some days he was even able to convince her to rest, to which she would mutely nod and he would carry her stiff body off to the nearest bedroom. Her tired eyes would shut even before he lifted her into his arms.

Allura was the third, surprisingly. Kolivan had thought that she, of all castle occupants, would be the most difficult to bond with. He landed himself in her good graces, however, when she walked in on Lance braiding Kolivan’s hair one night.

This is where he is now.

“Hunk,” she says, nose buried into a holo-projector as she enters the room through the sliding doors. “I need you to come with me for a brief moment. The cylinders in the- oh.” the princess stops in her tracks, body frozen in place as she stares incredulously at the scene before her; Kolivan sits on Lance’s bed, huddled in the mess of blankets while the Blue Paladin’s fingers tangle in the Galra man’s hair. Hunk is leaning forward in front of Kolivan, tongue stuck out in fierce concentration, which is interrupted by Allura’s entrance.

Kolivan’s claws are painted a cheery yellow to match his eyes.

Those same eyes widen in panic at the sight of the princess. He scrambles for words, mouth gaping as he stumbles over the weight of his own paralyzed tongue.

“P-princess Allura, I can explain, the Yellow Paladin was merely testing-”

Laughter fills the room. Allura grips her sides tightly, lungs fluttering and stomach convulsing as the tremors shake and swing her entire body like a pendulum. In the far future, Lance will swear with all his heart that he even heard the princess _snort_ a few times during her fit.

By the time her giggles have subsided, she has made herself a spot on the too-small bed, tucked between Hunk and Kolivan’s right side. With a sly curl of her lips, she gracefully plucks the nail polish from Hunk’s lap and continues where the Yellow Paladin had left off. She chats idly with the three off them the whole time, and when she has finished with the nails on one hand, she gently lifts Kolivan’s fingers to her lips to blow the paint dry, half-lidded eyes meeting his the whole time.

He gulps, suddenly feeling very small under the princess’ mischievous gaze. She is planning something and _he can feel it in his gut_ , _damn it._

But for the time being, her plans, _whatever they are_ , remain unknown.

Everyone’s nails do not remain unpainted, however. Lance sports a dazzling turquoise. Hunk shares the same yellow as Kolivan. Allura shows off her pastel pink. They all admire one another’s handiwork, eyes crinkling as they smile and flash their teeth. Before they know it, the group has lost the track of the time in their fun, and the princess is being summoned by Coran to assist in a scheduled maintenance check on the deck. She leaves the room slowly, hesitance heavy on her shoulders, and smiles and waves a quick goodbye to her paladins.

As the doors slide shut, Lance turns and snorts at Kolivan’s disgruntled expression.

“What’s eating you, big guy? Scared she might whip out the hair curler next?”

Kolivan’s frown deepens and he grunts, pulling the comforter around his shoulders.

“No…she just. She was teasing me. One minute she cannot stand to look at me and the next she is staring at me as though I am her next meal.” he huffs, arms crossing petulantly. Lance squints his eyes curiously before widening them in realization.

“Ooohhh. I get it,” he says with a snap of his fingers. Kolivan regards the Blue Paladin with a blank expression. “No, no, I’m serious. Look, buddy, she’s stressed; we all are. The only difference is that she has nothing to _distract_ herself from said stress. You’ve got us and we’ve got you, but she’s got nothin’. Coran doesn’t count, either. I know he’s been trying to help her, but there’s only so much he can do.”

The Galra man eyes Lance warily.

“What are you saying?”

“What I’m saying is we need to invite her to more makeover sessions. She’s intrigued. On the plus side, teasing you probably makes her feel a whole lot better about the current situation. Let her have her fun. It doesn’t mean she’s going to ‘eat you’ or shoot you out an airlock. This is just her way of testing the waters and getting to know you, too.”

Kolivan sighs, relief flowing through him as his shoulders sag.

“If you say so.”

* * *

 

Later that night, the team assembles for dinner. Hunk whips up something that can be closely associated with honey-glazed chicken with a side of wild rice. They all dig in, acknowledging Pidge's absence with a forlorn droop of their eyes. It is usually like this, anyway. Kolivan will bring her her food once he has finished his own meal.

They sit and eat with only a mild amount of chatter escaping their lips, all too entranced by the delicious meal to really speak. Just as Keith is pushing out of his chair to clear his plate, a small flash of green enters the room, halting his departure.

Pidge tosses the haphazard mess of cords and data pads in her arms onto the dining table, eyes wide and chest heaving. It is blatant to the occupants in the room that she has run all the way here without stopping for break or breath. Once she composes herself with a lungful of air, she addresses the table.

"I know where Shiro is," she gasps, lips curving into a giddy smile as her eyes fill with tears. "He's on Earth."

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked this chapter! And remember; kudos are nice, but COMMENTS are the lifeblood that give me the motivation to write in the first place! Say something nice, say something mean, say something! Thank you for sticking with me so far :)


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